


Antebellum

by Orbikki



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Antebellum period, Awkward modern-medieval era, Canon characters are much younger, F/M, Is this an AU?, More like a prequel, OCs - Freeform, Pre-Barrier, Racism, Reader has a personality, Reader is a mage, Reader is nameless but has a vague description, Romance, Short Chapters, Vanilla Gaster, even though I don't like making OCs, human-monster crime, no skelebros? What is this malarkey, plot!plot!plot!, that I kind of made up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:15:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9714815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orbikki/pseuds/Orbikki
Summary: Before the barrier went up, before the monsters were trapped underground, and even before the war...There was a mage and there was a monster:you and him.





	1. Morning walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day! So, I was listening to "The Loser" by Zach and this idea kind of hit me. I wanted to write just a sappy, boy meets girl kind of story and it grew from there. I hope you like it! Sorry if characters are kinda OOC, this story takes place many years before Undertale so naturally their personalities are a bit different in their youth.

You could feel the bumps of cobblestone through the thin soles of your shoes, the hem of your woolen dress barely inches from touching the stone path. Your shoulder-length coils of twisted hair flowed in the aromatic breeze, indistinct chatter of townspeople all around.

Ebott town was bustling, preparing for the spring festival that was just short of a month away. It was especially exciting this year because halfway through said festival, the young prince Asgore would announce his marriage to the princess Toriel under the grand cherry blossom tree, just at the foot of Mount Ebott. You had no doubt he would become an amazing king one day, just like his father. 

The mountain stood on the border of Ebott town and the capital. Despite all the tensions rising in neighboring kingdoms, the monsters and humans in Ebott town still coexisted peacefully, as did all the subjects of the Kingdom of Greria. 

Even still, the icy word ‘war’ was uttered by those in the northern kingdoms more and more frequently, forcing a chill down everyone's back. 

It was a clear Sunday morning, the chill of winter ebbing away through the blossoming of flowers and hatching of baby birds. You murmured “Hello” and “Happy Spring” to just about everyone you passed, practically skipping down the side of the street. A slime monster, shimmering with yellows and oranges slid by you, returning your greeting with a cordial “Lovely day we’re having.” You nodded before passing them, humming in agreement. It was a romantic day, indeed. 

You veered out of town, heading into the woods.

Your shoes pressed onto spongy, moss covered ground as you headed down the hill that led to the shimmering lake, fresh with melted frost and snow. Birds twittered overhead, and you whistled along with them, unable to match the intricate tunes. Wind chimes accompanied the music you and the birds were making, and you spotted the shining metal rods dangling from the dogwood trees and weeping willows that surrounded the lake. You continued forward, pushing past the coverage of trees to the bench on the lake’s shore.

Only, someone was already seated there, a man dressed in blue-gray with broad shoulders and a clean top hat. You stopped whistling, fingers tightening on the strap of your satchel that drew across your left breast. As soon as your whistling stopped, you realized you hadn’t been alone in your song with the birds. 

This stranger was blowing a sweet tune as well, much more fluidly than you. As you ceased your song, his stuttered then stopped completely, a loud gust of wind filling the silence. Your twists of hair blew in front of your eyes, the sound of leaves quivering in the wind and silver chimes clanging relentlessly filled your ears. 

You pushed your hair our of your face, dress clinging to your side and billowing to the right in course with the wind. He was looking at you now, arm bent and rested on the back of the bench, smooth white face carrying the faintest of smiles. 

He seemed as entranced by you as you were him, watching you with empty black sockets that soon flickered to life with fuzzy white lights, like little pupils in dark eyes. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you eyed the skeletal monster, the alabaster bone of his face completely unblemished and perfectly symmetrical with a strong jaw that held just a touch of femininity. He was _beautiful._

The two of you held each other's gaze for a long while, petals and leaves blowing past as pink and green blurs. You continued down the hill, legs moving on their own accord as you found a place on the bench beside him. Something magical buzzed between your stiff form and you wet your lips, glancing at the stranger you’d just sat beside. Your mind blanked so you reused words that had been spoken to you just twenty minutes before.

“Lovely day we’re having, isn’t it?” 

Yes, it was that enchanting spring morning where you met W.D. Gaster, the love of your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of iffy about the title, I stole it from American History. 
> 
> Anyways, anyone like it? I know it's short, a second chapter will be up soon so y'all can get a better taste. 
> 
> Again, happy V-day!


	2. Morning Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet Gaster.

You spoke first, looking down at your lap, past the rising and falling of your chest. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

When silence answered you, you glanced to the side, just barely lifting your head and pushing two or three twists of hair behind your ear. You raised your brows as he continued to stare at you with something you almost believed was awe. 

Finally, his silken voice rung out in a low song-like tone that competed with the tranquility of the scenery around you, “One of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” 

His stare was earnest. You smiled at that, surprisingly not finding yourself flustered by the intimacy of his gaze. 

You leaned back and looked out on the glistening lake waters, comforted that for the first time in years, you weren’t sitting on the bench alone. 

“Is this your first time in Ebott?” You asked, watching the sun’s rising rays turn the vast waters in front of you into a sheet of dancing diamonds. The stranger eventually leaned back as well, you could feel him finally pry his gaze off of you. 

“Is it that obvious?” He chuckled and you smiled wider as the sweet sound echoed through your ears. You could feel the strong magic he held just from the lilt in his voice, the way his energy hummed with presence. 

“Not at all, it’s hard to stick out here…” You shrugged, “But, I’m sure I would’ve recognized your face had we crossed paths before.” 

You glanced to your side, taking in his profile now. The bone of his face was almost yellow under the morning light, growing albescent under his cheek bones and other places the light didn't touch.

The water in front of you splashed causing to you turn and look, just in time to spot a stone hopping across the rippling lake waters. You realized he had skipped the stone. Two, three, four more hops before the stone sank into the glittering waters.

“I see,” he replied, “Well, you’re correct. I’m really from Nearon; though, I haven’t been there in quite some time.” 

You smiled, mentally congratulating yourself on recognizing a northern accent. “You’re a merchant then? What’s your trade?” 

He smirked inwardly, scoffing a little. You briefly wondered if you had insulted him. He was rolling his wrist, the dark voids of his eyes trained on the calm waters of the lake.

You heard a shift in the water and felt a flutter of energy in the air as the stone lifted from the depths and floated back into his slim, skeletal hand. 

“Not a merchant; an alchemist.” 

Your back straightened and you lifted your brows, an alchemist with magic practically humming from his bones probably hadn’t come here to cart around silly love potions, haggling for the highest price. You had a fairly decent guess why he was here. 

“You’re here to take the position of court alchemist then? Working under the royal families of Greria?” 

The lavender glow around the stone vanished and the rock clattered into his palm as he looked over at you with mild surprise. “You know quite a bit about royal matters, had you applied as well?” 

You shook your head with a light giggle and placed your hand out, “Maybe we should’ve introduced ourselves sooner.” 

You watched as the malleable bone of his skull lifted in what you could tell was an eyebrow raise. He took your hand and you both let out a sigh as purple and green jolts of light dance over your conjoined hands. He blinked a few times, something that fascinates you. Why would he need to blink sockets? “A magical handshake,” he said sounding impressed, “meaning you’re…”

“______ ______, one of the court mages, my specialty is shielding and defense…”

You felt a bit proud to properly introduce yourself to someone who cares enough to find it important. However, the job is much more based upon settling petty land squabbles and skirmishes. 

Nothing extreme ever really happened in Greria; it's been at peace for a long, long time.

He squinted, sockets narrowing, “The town has no defense. It’s barrierless, walless, fenceless…”

You shrugged, the criticism was nothing new. “None of the towns over here do, there is no conflict between us and other southern lands, it’s the kingdoms bordering the north that must worry…”

The skeleton chuckled, giving your hand a firm shake, “Southern hospitality,” he scoffed. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, ______. I am Wing- ah… W.D. Gaster.”

“W.D.?”

“Silly first name, please call me Gaster.”

You could’ve sworn you saw a purple hue come to his cheekbones. You were unsure what to make of it, you'd never met a skeleton monster before.

“Gaster…” You said, “It truly is nice to meet you.” 

You both looked away from each other and back onto the beautiful waters of the lake; sitting in a comfortable silence, a little closer together than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smooth introductions.
> 
> Sorry the reader isn't exactly a blank slate; this is more of a story told in second person. Hope you're enjoying it so far! Still not positive what to rate it, but there's no rush.
> 
> Any feedback is greatly appreciated! This is kinda different from the fics I read/write.


	3. Morning Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You voyage to work.

All the shopkeepers were suddenly kicking into full festive mode. Only a few days had passed and you felt like you were walking through a new town. _Surely it's a bit early,_ you thought, though you wanted winter gone as much as anyone else. Streamers of pastel colors were coiled around the columns of shops and streetlamps, hanging from the balconies of townhouses. One of which, was yours.

You put your hands on your hips and eyed the lavender papers dangling from your small balcony on the second story of your flat. 

“Now who went and did that…” You mumbled, tickled by the gesture. It was most likely one of your neighbors, you would even reckon the arachnids next door were to blame. They owned a bakery and were, quite frankly, the only ones who could manage to get to your balcony without being inside of your home. 

You pulled forward the collar of your white blouse and dropped your house key into it, the long silver lanyard always bothered you when it wasn’t tucked away. You wore your work clothes today, a white blouse tucked into gray trousers, the intermingled crests of the Dreemurr and Sigel families decorated the front pocket- signifying the peace between humans and monsters, a peace that had been formed since before written records.

A cold wind ruffled the split tail of your black overcoat, light bending off the green trim. You weren’t sure why, but the sudden gust held something sinister. Like it was one of those fabled ‘winds of change.’ It was a figure of speech, you knew that much, but things certainly were changing.

You began walking, brown boots clicking against the gray cobblestone. You always caught a ride to work with Grillby, a fire elemental who lived at the end of your street. He was younger than you, not a member of court but a blacksmith’s apprentice. He delivered food to his mentor’s family as a compensation for the apprenticeship. This was somewhat of an easy feat since Grillby’s family owned a successful tavern and grill. 

You spotted Grillby right away; he wore a simple white shirt, littered with scorch marks, and light trousers, held onto his lean hips by a leather apron. Every morning the elemental would chastise you, with a crackly voice, saying you should move to the capital so he wouldn’t have to wait on you each morning. 

Ironically, he was a real hothead.

You sighed, this morning was no exception. Grillby stood at a slant, leaned back against his wagon, one leg kicked up as smoke lightly billowed from the flame of his head. The back of the wagon was already half-filled and ready to go. He squinted when he saw you, the folded arms over his chest dropping. 

“Ah, the princess arrives,” He said sarcastically. You gave an embarrassed smile, putting a bit of pep in your step. “Grillby, the light of my life!” You exclaimed and he scoffed, detaching from the wagon and moving to the bench up front, sitting and grabbing the reigns. “You really shoul-”

“Move to the capital, I know, I know…” You sighed, walking around the wagon to sit beside him. “But I can’t leave home, you know that.” Grillby’s mouth opened to respond, revealing the pale yellow fires inside, but all the came out was a call to the horses. You mentally thanked him for his tact. You didn’t need to be reminded that your family, the ones who made this place a home, was gone.

The ride to the capital was bumpy and light-hearted, you cracked a few jokes and Grillby pretended not to like them. At least, you hoped he was pretending. “Your jokes never cease to ruin my day before it’s even began,” he said, as if it was an afterthought. “Sorry Grillbz, I just lose my _cool_ around someone as _hot_ as you!” You cackled and he groaned dramatically before cursing as the wagon jolted.

“Christ!” You exclaimed before giving your driver a pointed look, “I swear you have the worst eyesight.”

“And you have-”

“You must be blinded by my charms, ha!” You had cut him off while wearing a smug grin and his back hunched, resembling a grumpy old man. The wagon continued to bump along and you pressed yourself further into your seat. The day was just beginning, the morning only now growing light; sunlight began competing with Grillby’s orange burn. He’d shot up over the past few years, you remember when he was just a child, only coming to your rib-cage. Now he stood at exactly your height and didn't seem to be stopping there, you could tell from the knobbiness of his knees that he had much more growing to do. 

After a few moments of enjoying comfortable silence and sweet smelling wind, a curious look crossed over Grillby’s sizzling face and he used a teasing voice, “Word has it that you have lured in someone particularly tall, dark, and handsome, hmm?”

You cocked up an eyebrow, “What? Me? Actually luring someone in?” You snorted, and that really just proved your point. Grillby shrugged, “Well you aren’t _ugly,_ that monster by the river didn’t think so…” His teenaged bluntness almost led you to breeze over the implications of what he had said. 

“Wh- How do you know about that?”

“Ebott is a small town and I live upstairs of the town tavern - there isn’t much I don’t hear about.” You figured that was fair enough and turned your head away, looking out onto the fields between Ebott town and the Capital, the well-used path connecting the two locations was the one you traveled on now. Puffy white clouds rolled overhead, the fields were _spring_ ing (ha) with green under the lightening sky, and just beyond the vast seas of emerald grass was the beautiful Mount Ebott, flocks of multicolored birds circling the snowy top. 

Grillby cleared his throat loudly and you realized you never answered his question, lost in the nature around you. “Oh, that was Gaster… He’s new to town. Got mixed up on his way to the capital.”

“Likely story.”

“Actually, it’s incredibly unlikely…” You said, oblivious to the sarcasm Grillby had used. You felt a smile lift your face and didn’t fight it. You quite liked the feeling. “Yet, it happened…”

“Must be destiny.” Grillby grumbled with an eye roll. You hummed quietly in response, eyes remaining glued to the horizon until it was obscured from your vision by a wall of tan bricks lined with golden sconces. 

You had reached the capital.

Once you hopped off the wagon, you waved to Grillby as he pulled off, joining the many other carts and horses crowding the streets. The kid had a nasty attitude at times, but you know he’s a good one… With a particularly _bright_ future ahead of him. 

The smells of the capital waking up were something you’d grown used to. Bread baking, fires burning, herbs being cut, metal being struck, even dung being shoveled… it all said ‘home’ to you. Shopkeepers argued about where to put their carts, merchants pondered what to price their goods, and you were just about to set forward on your path to the castle when suddenly a voice halted you. You turned around and words you hadn’t even paid any mind to were suddenly loud in your head.

_“Must be destiny.”_

Gaster was running to meet you, waving a hand as if you weren't calmly waiting for him. His long legs took galloping strides, polished shoes glinting in the pale morning light. Once he reached you, he panted, resting his hands on his knees, and struggled to find his voice. He was wearing an outfit almost identical to the one he’d worn during your first meeting, though the theme this time was a muted brown, not gray-blue. 

You gave him a moment, waiting for him to catch his breath (how does he breathe?), still a little bewildered that the two of you have now crossed paths for the second time in just one week. 

“I saw you… on the wagon… _huff_ … had to catch up…” He stood up straight and you realized how much taller than you he really was. 

“Oh?” You smiled, looking up at his beautiful, picturesque skull. He was flushed with purple, a bit of sweat beaded under the shade of his hat. 

“Why’d you run after me?” You asked, curiously. The two of you had talked for a while at the lake, but that hardly made you friends… right?

“Oh, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck, then answered you with a completely monotonous tone, “Because I have no idea where I’m going.”

Your lips flat-lined, “Oh.” You shrugged and shook your head, twists of hair dragging along the collar of your jacket, what had you been expecting? “Well, let’s be on our way then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Though, it'll probably happen again (my other fic takes priority, but it'll be coming to a close).
> 
> By the way, feel free to comment! They really brighten my day and add to the enjoyment of writing. I like to hear thoughts!


	4. Morning Rush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take Gaster to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Gaster seemed irritated that his long legs had to shorten their lengthy strides for you. Despite being a newcomer, his arrogance was something he had trouble suppressing. You weren't even walking slow, in fact you were moving quite quickly, the sun was almost fully over the mountain and you couldn't be late… for the _fourth time this month._

You noticed Gaster’s head tilt downward from the corner of your vision; he was eyeing your body from the hips down, sockets narrowing.

“You're wearing pants.”

His observation took you by surprise and you spared a look at him, seeing him still staring down your lower half, lights in his eyes trailing down the back of your swallow-tailed jacket to the way your dark pants clung to your legs.

“Uh, yes?” You stated, regarding him in a similar fashion, from the collarbones down. “So are you.”

He hummed, “But you're a lady.”

You giggled and shook your head, “I'm a mage. My work sometimes requires agility that skirts don't allow.” You would tease him for being so conservative, but you had heard this was typical for northerners.

You curiously stole another glance. Your answer seemed to sate his curiosity well enough. The tall skeleton wore an expression of enlightened contentment as the two of you hastily journeyed up the hill to the citadel, the morning breeze ruffling through the slim space between you and him.

It may have been a slight lie when you’d said the South had no walls. There was a fairly grand one in the center of the capital, surrounding the citadel where the twin castles of the royal families were. The select few allowed inside were managed by the guards of the resplendent golden gate that you and Gaster were approaching. You happened to know those on the morning shift fairly well.

“_____!”

You smiled as one of the guards called your name. Waving.

“_____? Oh, hey!” The other caught on. The human guard, Leon, signaled for the gate to be opened, but halted when he spotted Gaster. The dog-monster, Myra, asked the patent question before him.

“Who’s this?”

You glanced back at Gaster, simpering as you opened your mouth - only he didn't need your help for this.

“W.D. Gaster,” he pulled a scroll from his jacket and walked past you with unimpeded lengthy strides. “New court alchemist, it's a pleasure.”

You don't know why you had expected him to be… less socially adept. But it made sense. The alchemy department wouldn’t summon just anyone to fill the opening, especially from as far a place as Nearon, or wherever he had been residing. Your thoughts lingered on that for a moment; where had he been living before now? Leon and Myra looked over his paperwork and nodded approvingly, handing them back to the suave monster before them.

“New alchemist, huh?”

“Innit that somethin’?”

The guards beamed at each other and the gate continued to open, the gold shining under emerging morning light. The sun was definitely over the mountain now, and you were definitely late. You scurried through the gates, past Gaster and the guards (who were now inquiring a little about his accent), murmuring a goodbye. Your hips jutted from side to side with your powerful, albeit feminine, walk.

You heard light footsteps soon rushing behind you in long intervals. “Were you trying to leave me?” Gaster caught up to you in no time. You laughed, shaking your head, “No, but you seemed alright. And I don't want to be late.”

He tapped his chin, not having to put nearly as much effort as you did to maintain this pace. “That’s right, you would have quite a journey to get here on time, why haven't you moved to the capital?”

You _so_ did not have enough time to talk about this. “Family stuff,” you replied nonchalantly. You felt his gaze on you and decided to speak before he called you out on your white lie, maybe he hadn’t noticed anyways. “Alchemy is actually on the same wing as where I work. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other since science and magic go together quite-”

“Beautifully.”

Your brows lifted and you looked up at the monster walking in perfect sync with you. He had a sly smile on his flawless features and you felt it should be outlawed for someone to be so attractive. Especially a skeleton. Despite yourself, you smiled back, “Yeah, beautifully.”

 

* * *

 

Together the two of you climbed the steps and entered the left wing of the Dreemurr castle, where most of the highbrow departments were located, though there were mages in the Sigel castle as well.

Gaster raved on how architecturally sound everything was, he marveled at the complexity of the design, enthralled by the rich shades of blue, gold, and purple. It was the most animated you’d seen him and you couldn’t help but drink in the scenery as well.

Columns of white lined the gaping hall, your steps echoed against the marbled floor into the vast high ceiling, large and grand metal chandeliers hanging down, ablaze with magical flames. You’d clearly been at the job too long. How could you not acknowledge the beauty of this castle every time you walked through its doors?

“And here you are, they’ll give you a uniform though…” you eyed his tall form, “it probably won't fit.” You said honestly and he smiled, “Something I’ve _grown_ used to.”

You jolted, “Was that…?”

“A joke, I believe.”

You smirked, his playfulness didn't suit his serious face at all. The man had layers. “I’ll be seeing you.”

He turned on his heel and walked into the laboratory. You could hear the voices inside greet him. You couldn't help but watch the doorway he’d just vanished through until your legs carried you out of view.

 

* * *

 

You hummed softly as you walked into your sun-filled office, parchments for land skirmishes and boarder disagreements already stacked on your desk. _Chair of defense,_ you scoffed. The title of your position was a major hyperbole.

You sat down and pulled out your hand-lens from the drawer of your desk. The parchment you had almost fallen asleep reading over two days ago was your first priority. Livestock moving onto another yeomen farmer’s land, always tricky… _almost_ not your job, but during times of peace what else was there to do but keep it tranquil by solving the small problems? You let out a long sigh, setting the dome of glass down and leaning back against the wood of your chair. Flashes of orange and dark blue light caught your attention. With narrowed eyes, you squinted through the sunlight to look out the window and into the courtyard. Some of the other mages were practicing magic outside and you decided you should practice as well later, once the paperwork was at least half-way done. You glanced at the stack on your desk.

Maybe one-fourth done. You blew out hot air as a stray thought popped up in your mind. A random smile flickered over your lips and you found yourself pressing a hand over your mouth, a flutter tickling your chest.

Though he was a little unpredictable and slightly pompous, he slinked into your thoughts anyways and you began to think that you very much liked W.D. Gaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, a breath of fresh air. Sometimes it's just great to write happy, simple stuff.
> 
> Gaster is so smooth. And he's quite an onion, so many layers, even here in his youth. 
> 
> Penny for your thoughts?


	5. Canonical Texts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You receive an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I messed up the chapter title pattern, but oh well. '
> 
> Enjoy, friends.

Gaster was already the talk of the castle. Everyone loved the skeleton. Or loathed him. It seemed all of the bottom floor had an opinion of him. He had even met the king already, which was _weird._

Two weeks had passed since you’d first walked him to work and it had become a habit since. Just like the first day, the second had been a coincidence. The third, you may or may not have lingered around, wondering if he’d show (which he did). The fourth really established the trend. It was during those morning hours under the brightening sky in the drowsy city that you saw the most of him since stayed at the castle much later than you, researching late into the night (Myra had heard from the late-shift guards that during the first week he rarely left until after midnight). He was dedicated, you’d give him that. Actually, you’d give him a few things, he was a good fellow. A good addition to the castle staff.

And here you were thinking about him again.

You lazily signed your name at the bottom of a parchment, your wrist and fingers stained with ink, hand aching. Today had been a long one, but the sun was falling at last. You were due for release any moment, though technically you could’ve left a while ago, before the sun had sunk so far. Yet, something was keeping you from leaving early, a few loose ends you could clip with a quick signature.

“____.”

You jolted, knees bumping into the bottom of your desk, causing you to wince and nearly spill ink all over the letters you’d spent your day writing. With quick hands you caught the vial and looked to your doorway with beady eyes.

You made a face of puzzlement.

It was the head alchemist?

“Sir?” You questioned without thinking, “Oh uh, hello Lonias.”

He chuckled, “Am I so frightening?”

You lidded the container of ink and scooted back from your desk, standing from your chair. Lonias was an elderly man with light mahogany skin and piercing gray eyes that seemed to study everything and everyone. He reminded you of your father, and sometimes from the corner of your eye the resemblance was so uncanny you would forget what had happened to him.

“No, no…” You said softly, lips lifting in a cordial smile, “It’s just curious, sir…” It was strange that an alchemist would be at your door (though that had been happening a lot over the past two weeks; Gaster had enjoyed popping in a handful of times). You glanced to Lonias’ arms. He held four heavy leather bound books and three smaller parchments. You felt your heart sink.

“Those aren’t for me, I hope…” You joked. He gave you a smile, and walked into your office, placing them on your desk.

“You’ll be glad to hear they aren’t.”

You visibly relaxed, your mind was fried today from deciphering unintelligible handwriting and you weren’t sure if you could read more if you tried. “Then who are they for?” Lonias arched a brow, “Gaster.” You hid your mild (the mildest) excitement. “I can’t seem to find him, and I’m retiring for the day. You're his friend, aren't you? You’ll see him before I do and the sooner he starts reading, the better.”

_Am I his friend?_

Sure you walked with him every morning, but you’d figured he was only doing it because you’d been one of the first faces he’d grown familiar with since coming to Greria. You hardly knew anything about him! You tilted your head, “So he isn't in the laboratory then?” You hummed, “That’s a first.” So, maybe you knew one or two things about him, but nothing major. Had this been anyone else, would you be making a big deal about it? No, you wouldn't.

You eyed the books, reading the titles and smirking. “I’ll get them to him,” You said, unable to hide the amusement in your tone as you flipped through a few pages. Lonias nodded and stepped away from your desk. “I’m sure he’ll have a hayday with them, but we all had to do it.”

You nodded, recalling having to read similar canonical texts before starting the job, though… It was clear there were some worries about him being from the north based on the book choices.

 

* * *

 

The books were heavy, very heavy. And while being fairly able to carry them, you would rather not. Hopefully you’d have an easier time finding Gaster than the head alchemist did. Maybe you could drop them off at his residence... though there was the obstacle of not knowing where he lived. Your boots clicked against the marble floors as you hugged the heavy books to your chest, turning into the laboratory and finding yourself surprised at how vacant it was. Everyone must’ve left as soon as the sun began to dip. You were, however, unsurprised to find Gaster, who must’ve returned since Lonias left. He had a uniform now, gray trousers and a fitted white shirt that peeked from under his coat, sparrow tail (like yours), and lined with the color of his choosing: purple. He was hunched over the wooden work bench, eyeing something with a more advanced version of your hand-lens. His sockets were narrow with focus and you almost didn’t want to interrupt him. But you did have a ride to catch.

“Evening, Gaster,” You greeted neutrally.

“I was wondering when you were going to say something.” Your eyes widened and he turned his head to look at you, smiling complacently. You laughed a little, “You seemed busy.”

“I am.”

You rolled your eyes and deflated slightly, “Well, you’ll be busier now.” You walked across the lab. "Here." You handed him the stack as he pivoted on his stool to face you. "The head alchemist gave these to me since he couldn't find you. Figured we were friends..." Gaster eyed the books with distaste as you spoke, but his gaze was drawn to you at the last few words. "Friends?" He mused, "Guess that's set in stone then." You lifted your brows in surprise, but he had already moved on. " _Soul Colors and What They Mean..._ " he said lamely before looking at the second book, " _The Art of Tranquility..._ " His voice grew lower with insipidness. He flicked through two more books, the last one guiding him to chuckle, " _Anger Management-_ what is this?"

You pinched your brows together, "Working in the castle is a stressful job!" You defended to no avail. He was outright laughing now. You'd never seen him laugh in such an unhampered way. His bone moved as his sinewy figure shook with chuckles; he was utterly animated. You cracked a small smile, "Alright, it is a bit much. But mostly everyone here on the first floor is extremely powerful... butting heads can result in catastrophe."

"It's happened before?" Gaster was serious now, eyeing the 'Anger Management' book with thin sockets.

"Not since I've been here... but yes."

He sighed and twisted his head from side to side, cracking his neck; you watched the bones realign slightly with each pop. Satisfying.

"Fine, fine... I’ll skim these... ridiculous southern texts. Any other requirements?"

"Self defense seminar."

Gaster's sockets grew huge, "Are you pulling my leg?"

"Am I what now?"

He gave you an incredulous look, “It’s means, bah, nevermind.” He shook his head, "Why?"

You bounced on the balls of your feet, "Well, since we have no fences... the first floor of the castle has to be a kind of last resort, ready to defend the royal family while they escape to safety. The staff here are well versed in defense, specifically mages, since enemies wouldn't expect the citadel to be protected by anyone more than royal guards." You glanced to the side, "Northern enemies, at least."

Wind was buffeting outside, the orange of the dying-afternoon sky spilled inside the lab. Gaster removed a sample of what seemed to be echo flower and placed a yellow weed under the lens. He crossed his legs, adjusting the golden base of the viewing glass. "I won't waste my time," he said decisively, "No seminar."

Your brow twitched, "It's required."

"I know how to FIGHT," he said grimly, "Not just defensively either." His cold gaze sent a chill down your spine. The flame of your curiosity was enough to heat you back up. Your voice struck a lower tone. "You could always test out then..." you suggested. This softened his gaze, "How?"

You prattled on slightly, “It's incredibly irregular, honestly it may be more difficult-”

“ _How?_ ”

"A duel of sorts, with one of the head mages."

"Alright, who then?"

"Me."

He froze, realization falling on his face. Your confidence faltered at the expression.

"Or... someone else," you deferred.

"Someone else then."

"Why not me!? Head of defense here." You asked, slightly offended. Was it because you were a woman? These backwards northern- "Because I don't want to hurt you," He stared into your eyes and you were suddenly lost in the voids of his sockets. Was he saying that just to boast? He has another thing coming if- “Ever,” he tacked on, which completely changed the tone. You could feel the power in his words, the energy of his presence. You were fully aware of him in this moment. You knew the feeling was mutual, somehow. You knew he was earnest.

"I-I've only just gained you as a friend... is all..." he quickly covered, breaking the strange link that had formed between you two. You let out a breath you hadn't realized that you'd been holding. "R-Right..." You smile, "Shame... I would've liked to experience you firsthand."

His tentative nature vanished within a moment, a small smirk growing. He returned to his observing lens and closed one socket to peer through it. "A lady should be more careful how she phrases things."

Your face heated and you scoffed. Yeah, he was a backwards northerner after all.

And it warmed your SOUL.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter as an apology for taking so long to post this!
> 
> World building isn't really my strong suit, but everyone has to start somewhere. I'm trying to get comfortable with using OCs. Anyways, hope you guys like it. 
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated :)


	6. Evening Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day's work, you and Grillby head back to town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of on hiatus, but I received a demand for more and I had this already written so here.
> 
> I conceded.

“Next time you take this long, I’m leaving you,” Grillby stated, taking your hand in his and helping you into the seat of the wagon. His hands were incredibly warm, but you could tell he was tired, his flames were dimmed from a long day of work. “You are ever the gentleman, Grillby,” you smile, watching him adjust in his seat beside you. He called softly to his horse and the wagon lurched forward. You observed your friend with gentle eyes, unable to ignore the dullness of his hue.

“You really should ask Charles to-”

“I _asked_   him for the extra work.”

“Well, stop. You're tiring yourself out and for what? You're his only apprentice. It's not like you have to rise the ranks.”

Grillby sighed, bright eyes thinning. “I just… I don't want to run the tavern and the only way I can get out of it is if I'm a good enough blacksmith.”

This isn't the first time you’d heard this from Grillby. Being an only child, and a son especially, he was expected to run his parents’ tavern once he was old and experienced enough. Being somewhat of a strategist, you know which battles to pick, and which to leave alone. This subject was one of them; you couldn’t tell Grillby that running the tavern wouldn’t be bad, you had no idea what that would be like. “Give me the reigns,” you said.

“What?”

“Let me drive.”

“You're insane if you think-”

“You're practically falling asleep! Just nap and let me get us home, okay?”

He sighed and nodded slowly, handing you the reigns. You stood and let him scoot over to your side while you took small side-steps to sit where he had been. It was a bit of a squeeze, but the two of you did it. The worn brown leather was soft in your hands, it probably would need replacing within the year. Grillby’s exhaustion seemed to increase tenfold just from that small exertion of energy. Your brows pinched together. Seeing him this dim didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t your fight, but a friend in need is a friend in need.

“I think you should tell your parents, Grillbz that you don’t want to run the tavern, Grillbz.” You glanced away from the road to look at his horrified expression.

“No way! My dad would definitely snuff me out.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes, “You know…” your tone was warm, “give parents some credit. They're people too. I think you'll find them more understanding than you would've believed.” Grillby was quiet and you looked back towards the road. The road began to grow bumpy and less defined as you strayed from the capital, back to Ebott.

“I hope you're right,” Grillby said after a few minutes. You smiled and jolted slightly as warmth engulfed your lap. You glanced down with wide eyes, finding Grillby resting his head there. “Is this okay?” He asked quietly. Your smile returned. “Of course, you're so _burned out_   that you might fall out of the wagon otherwise.”

“Ugh…” He growled, shifting slightly, flames rising and then falling again. You looked towards the road once more, though it was now just a glorified trail. A yawn tumbled from your lips and you leaned back in your seat. Grillby had fallen asleep within a few minutes of laying down, his flames low. As night-time creatures began to croak and chirp in the field around you, your mind began to wander. You thought about the lanky stranger who had sauntered right into your life.

Gaster.

You should've insisted that he challenge _you._ A personal relationship with a human is safer, less malicious intent behind attacks. Even mild irritation can be dangerous for weaker monsters. Yet Gaster thinks he can hold his own. You chewed on your lip and hoped that was true. You don't know his stats, but hopefully he has the strength to back his confidence.

If you’re being honest with yourself, your motive for wanting to be the one to fight Gaster wasn’t purely as innocent as his well-being. There was just the smallest part of you that wanted to take him down a peg. A teeny tiny peg. You _really_ wanted to be his challenger.

You smirked. Okay, sold, you'll do it despite his wishes. One does not always get what they want. Your spirits lifted and you wiggled excitedly, earning a groan of protest from your sleeping friend. “Whoops,” you whispered, still grinning. Everyone knows that every good relationship starts with a FIGHT. Okay, not an actual fight, but a magical altercation. And not a relationship, but a friendship. Ah, whatever.

 

* * *

 

Grillby required a more thorough waking once you were in town. You tied up the horse and wagon behind the Grill and patiently waited for the fire elemental to awaken. His flames began to flicker, as if wind was blowing through them. Eventually, you saw the soft yellow glow of his eyes. He placed a warm hand on your knee and pushed himself up, blinking drowsily.

“Evening, sunshine,” You said with a chuckle. He groaned and moved away from you, wasting no time in jumping out of the wagon.

“Thanks,” You heard him say as you hopped out as well. You shrugged, as many times as he’s driven you, you hardly saw any need for a thanks, but you replied with “you’re welcome,” anyways. You followed Grillby inside, the scent of charcoal and spices greeting you. Your stomach rumbled and you patted it knowingly. Your pantry at home was basically empty, you sighed at that revelation and found yourself a seat at the bar. The tavern wouldn’t close for an hour or so. Grillby grumbled a goodbye as he went upstairs, probably to continue what he’d started in the wagon. You laughed lightly, turning away from the stairs and finding Fintan, Grillby’s father, in front of you. His flames were much redder than Grillby’s. Hotter, too. You almost began sweating just looking at him.

“Always a pleasure to see your pretty face, ______,” Fintan said, a bright smile splitting the flames of his face. His chest was puffed out a little, the flames of his body covered by dark attire and a white apron around his hips.

“Please, you hate seeing me here, be honest.”

“That’s because you never pay your tab.”

You smirked and rested your elbows on the mahogany table, “I’m pretty sure I have all that money stored somewhere…” You tapped your chin, “Under my bed? No… Under the sink? Don’t think so…” You sighed and gave him a wink, “I’ll put you in my will, how about that?”

Fintan let out a guffaw of laughter and shook his head. There actually wasn’t a tab, but that’s always what you said when other patrons are around. What would they think if they saw you getting free ale and food? Ebott town was small, but the majority of them are unaware just how close you and the fire elemental family were. They were basically your family. So the ‘tab,’ was pretty much a running joke at this point. “What can I do ya for?” Fintan asked, turning his back to you as he organized a few cups. His broad shoulder bumped the mugs hanging above him and he cursed. “Surprise me. Let it is be known that I’m starving though. Where’s Ember? She functions much better behind the bar than you.”

“Only because the woman is the height of a dwarf. Even Grillby’s got a foot on her now.” He grabbed a mug and poured you some ale, sliding it to you across the bar. The sparkling liquid sloshed, foam dripping down the sides. You hadn’t planned on drinking tonight, but this must be a sign.

“Ember, she’s around here somewhere. Been obsessed with spiffing this place up for the festival, you know how she gets. Shame Grillby didn't get her enthusiasm.” You sipped your ale as he spoke, the liquid was bittersweet and it seemed to vibrate as you swallowed it, though it dissolved about half-way down. Monster ale was definitely better than the regular kind. The stuff actually tasted good and didn’t leave you feeling bloated after. “Grillby has enthusiasm!” You defended after swallowing, “You should really visit him at his apprenticeship.”

“What does it matter since he’s gonna run the tavern? Boy’s got his head full of liquid, I swear.”

You remained quiet on that, watching Fintan from over the curve of the mug as you drank.

“I’m gonna go fix ya something,” He said, vanishing into the back. You heard the flames of the stove woosh to life, yellow and red light spilling from under the swinging door. You put the mug down, it was about half full. You’d always been a fast drinker, fast eater too. Your parents had been, too.

You smile softly, remembering all the pie eating contests the three of you had in the springtime, when the blackberries around the citadel ripened. You always lost, so it really just came down to your mom and dad. You remembered how hard you would laugh as your mother’s face grew red with effort, her green eyes blurring as she gorged herself, having the disadvantage of a small mouth. They both won frequently, never going easy on you. You pouted at first, but eventually you just learned to laugh along and enjoy the sweets. You stare down into the twinkling amber of the ale, your lashes drooping in a slow blink. You were glad they never went easy on you. In a way, it prepared you; life hadn’t been easy on you either.

The scent of garlic and the unmistakable smell of broccoli drew you from remembrance. Finton stood before you with a plate. You wrinkled your nose, “Come on now.”

“You said to surprise ya.”

“Color me surprised,” you said. “Too much broccoli left over, then?”

“No one orders it.” he took out a cloth from behind the bar and wiped his hands. The cloth blackened a little, but was unaffected overall. “Easy to grow out here, most folks got it at home. Doesn’t hurt to offer though.” You nodded and slid your ale to the side, taking the tray. There were broccoli, peas, and two thin slabs of meat, cooked perfectly. Fintan may not be the best behind the bar, but he sure knows how to work a grill. You sniffed it, “Venison?” You asked. He nodded and you dig in, starting with the greens and working your way to the meat. You felt eyes on you and furrowed your brows, looking up to see Fintan staring at you with his arms crossed.

“Hmm?” You questioned, not opening your mouth in fear of exposing the green mush the broccoli’s become in there.

“You look just like ‘em. Gods, it’s somethin’.” He palmed his face and shook his head. “Sorry, sorry. Sometimes I just can’t believe they’re gone.”

Three years ago you would’ve started crying at the mere mention of your parents, yet now… it made you smile. You swallowed and ran your tongue over your teeth before speaking. “Not completely gone. I mean, they’re in me somehow, right?” You saw Fintan grin, “That’s right.”

The rest of your dinner consisted of less heavy topics, like when you used to work here as a waitress during your studies. Those had been good times, waitressing was pretty fun, you enjoyed being on your feet. You missed that a little now, but the pay from the castle is what allows you to live independently, so you can’t complain. Fintan closed the bar right before you finished. Once you were done, he took your plate and wished you a good night. You bid him goodnight as well and told him not to be so hard on Grillby. He waved you off and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Fintan might be the most stubborn man you know, but he’s a huge softie… under the flames, that is. You had a feeling your words might cause him to chew on Grillby’s future just a little more.

You left the tavern, the night air engulfing the streets with darkness. There were small circles of orange light from the street torches. The walk home was a bit chilly.

It was on nights like these that you quietly wished there was someone you were going home to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Gaster this chapter, but there's the 2/3 of the flaming family.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	7. Afternoon Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a chat with your boss.

“And… you want it to be you?” Your superior, the pale blue-souled, head mage Quinn, stared at you looking confused. “I figured I’m the best choice, considering I know him and I am less likely to issue more malicious attacks,” you said, having recited this many times in the mirror at home. Quinn considered this, her icy yellow eyes glancing to the side, fingers twisting in her blonde tendrils of hair. “And you’re sure he would rather this than the seminar?”

You nodded. “He made it very clear.”

Quinn placed one hand over the other. “I’ll have to talk it over with Lonias, since Gaster is an alchemist, but I believe it would be better if a different mage handled it. It’s not a true FIGHT, just a test of ability so there shouldn’t be concerns for his well-being. Did Gaster request it be you?”

You sighed and slouched slightly, “No, ma’am.”

She frowned and reclined in her chair, white light streaming through the window and illuminating her in an angelic glow. She pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose. “I’ll look into it, ______.” Her tone was dismissive.

You left her office feeling disappointed, but glad you were able to organize Gaster’s testing out anyways. He’d probably be elated with the news. Or maybe he’d react with that disinterested expression he often made, like the world around him is in two dimensions and he’s too busy with the third to mind anyone else.

It had clouded up overnight, the lower floor of the castle seemed gloomy because of it. You stretched your arms over your head and went out to the courtyard anyways. If it wasn't winter, or raining, you always preferred to eat outside; being in that office, despite all its natural light, isn’t exactly ideal. You sat at your usual perch, an elevated mossy area surrounding one of the trees in the courtyard, your legs dangling over the short brick wall that boxed it in.

Your lunch wasn’t anything to brag about. It was just a piece of bread, jerky, and berries that you had plucked from the bushes outside the citadel walls. Still, it would hold you over. You dreaded going to the market and your pantry always suffered from it. You never learned what to shop for, never learned what to cook (nor, embarrassingly, how to cook). Your mother was the one who did that. She was gone just as you began to successfully boil pasta.

The tangy flavor of blackberries flooded your mouth, they were hardly ripe which is exactly how you like them. The perfect amount of tartness. After chewing a berry or two, you wondered if there’s a specific order you should eat everything in as you tear into the jerky. You supposed maybe the blackberries could act as a palate cleanser, so maybe save the rest of those for last. The cawing of crows sounded overhead and you looked up just to see a flock of them scatter from the tree you were seated under, like ink spilling across the gray sky. You bring your head down and gasp when you see Gaster standing by the tree across from you.

He definitely hadn’t been there before.

“Well, hi,” you said.

“You’re eating lunch late.”

Seriously, why can’t this guy just say ‘hello’?

“Yes, Gaster, I am.”

“Why?” He asked, leaning forward like your answer was going to be the most interesting thing in the world; the complete opposite of how he usually is. Gaster frequently wore a bored expression, but just then you realized he hardly wore it when speaking with you.

“I was arranging your testing out of the seminar.”

“Is that so?”

“Can you come over here? It’s awkward talking to you from across the courtyard.”

He crossed the cobblestones and stalked over to you, sitting flush beside you under the tree. You scooted to the side and angled to face him. His sockets reminded you of the feathers of those crows you’d seen earlier. Midnight black, with hints of something more. You couldn’t quite explain it, it was like the oil-gleam from crow feathers.

More than just dark.

There’s color in there.

Life.

“I don’t know who you’ll be fighting yet, but I advocated for myself-”

“I told you-”

“I know, but Gaster… you won’t hurt me.”

He didn’t look sure and you laughed. “Have you such little confidence in my ability?” Gaster looked down and plucked a berry from the napkin on your lap. “It’s not that…” he said.

“Can’t you see my lunch is small enough?” You interjected.

He popped the berry between his parted teeth, you saw a purple glow just before his jaws closed. He completely ignored your protest and continued, “It’s more what you’ll think of me afterward. The North… How we practice magic up there is different.”

“I’m aware, Gaster-” You slapped his hand as he reached for more of your blackberries. “-just have some faith, okay? It might not even be me, anyways. Quinn didn't seem convinced.”

“Quinn?”

“My boss, head of the head mages.” It always tickled you how redundant her title was.

He nodded with a sigh and slowly reclined to lean against the tree. “Alright.” His uniform coat splayed around him and you looked at him from over your shoulder. “We’ll leave it to fate,” he said whimsically. His sockets closed and you noticed the darkness below them from many late nights. He wore a black turtleneck below his unbuttoned vest. It was a bit funny how even that tight black turtleneck was baggy on his waist, since it was most likely just a spine. He hadn’t even been here a month and he was already breaking the uniform code. You looked down and let out a huff. “Are you pouting?” You inquired.

He didn’t say a word. He actually tilted his head away slightly. “Toddler,” you scoffed.

He remained mute.

You caved a little. “Open your mouth,” you said, and for the first time, he listened without asking a single question. He just did it. You tossed a berry at him and it missed his mouth, landing on his cheek and splattering a bit. You cackled at your luck and his sockets opened halfway. “Why?” He whined.

“I missed.”

He caught the berry as it slid off his face and ate it. There was a streak of reddish purple residue striped down his cheekbone like gaudy rouge. You pulled your handkerchief from the front pocket of your jacket and scooted back, twisting to face him. “Hold still.”

“I don’t think I should listen to you anymore, ______.”

You giggled and grabbed him by the chin, “Just this last time, okay?” He merely smirked and you wiped the color from his skull.

 

* * *

  

Gaster walked you back to your office and then he was gone. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was courting you. Who were you kidding? You didn’t know better. As you started on your paperwork you couldn’t help but notice the corner of a particular letter toward the top of the pile. You could just barely see a familiar swirl printed so you pulled it out a bit more. You made a sound of surprise.

It was indeed an unmistakable insignia. The seal of the royal _northern_ family. What was it doing in your stack of deliveries? It must’ve been delivered by a subject of Greria, but still.

The north and south were having peacetime, just like they had been for about a century now. Why so discreet?

Your eyes moved around every corner of the envelope, inspecting it thoroughly. It was addressed to the chair of defense, not by your name, just the title. But you had no jurisdiction to open it, this was technically an inter-kingdom matter. So, as curious as you were, you slid it into the inner pocket of your jacket and stood.

You’d see Quinn about this.


	8. Afternoon Audience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You knew something was off.

You didn’t have the authority to open the letter, but your boss did. You stood on the balls of your feet as Quinn looked over the letter with pensive brows. You had your suspicions, but apparently the sneaky delivery had been a much bigger deal than you initially believed.

“Maybe the carrier made a mistake?” You mused, mainly to break the tension.

“No, no mistake,” she said, her brow finally relaxing and you found yourself relaxing a bit with it. “This should have been delivered by horse directly to the castle, then walked by knight or squire to the throne room.”

That protocol could only mean one thing. You folded your arms over your chest. “It’s an invitation?” You inquired, “What would they be inviting the king to?”

When you heard the words out of Quinn’s mouth, you understood exactly why she had been set on edge: “The coronation of a new sovereign. A new royal family as well.”

All you could muster in response was a spiritless "Ah."

 

* * *

 

You rushed, by Quinn’s side, to the throne room after she requested an audience with the king. Together, the two of you hiked up the dazzling marble stairs and speedily set down the grand hall lined with portraits of all the previous rulers, each a caprine-like monster.

There were multiple things wrong with this letter and how it winded up in the castle. First being what you had discussed with Quinn, they sent no one to the castle to deliver it, secondly its delivery must have been done by a subject of Greria (leaving the imminent question of _who_ ), thirdly the crown had not been notified of the previous monarch’s passing. And the passing of his entire family at that! Why else would a new royal family be instilled? You'd never even heard of something like that happening before; not without a coup.

Anticipation thrummed in your chest. There was a time when the idea of meeting with King Goren would’ve made you nervous beyond all belief, but the longer you worked here, the more you saw him. King Goren didn’t isolate himself in his chambers or throne room, he was constantly walking around the citadel, visiting places within the capital, usually with the young prince Asgore by his side, teaching him what he was taught by his own father. It was the queen who you rarely saw. She was a beautiful caprine monster with silver fur and dark eyes.

A soft spoken queen, very unlike Asgore’s betrothed, Toriel. It would be very interesting to see what kind of queen Toriel will make, you’d be surprised if Asgore ever got a word in; despite her youth, she was a very outspoken lady.

The doors to the throne room almost stretched tall enough to reach the high ceiling and you watched as the guards pushed them open with minimal effort. You heard those giant doors loudly close once you were on the other side, a beat of heavy silence ensued. There was a regal purple rug with the Dreemurr crest at your feet, covering a strip of the shimmering marble floors. Across the long stretch of magnificent decorated carpet and marble, King Goren sat before you, Queen Asmara at his side, her hands daintily placed in her lap. The light from the stained glass windows that lined the oval shaped room painted them in a magnificent way, like they were deities. The dome window above the thrones allowed the sun’s rays to nearly obscure their faces from your vision. Because of this you found it a bit difficult to behold them.

“Your majesties,” you and Quinn said in unison, dropping into a curtsy. It was strange to curtsy without a dress, so it winded up being more of a delicate bow. The two of you kept your heads lowered until Goren’s voice rung out, “You may rise. Quinn, ______.” The two of you did so. Despite being across the enormous room, his voice was loud and booming. “What is the purpose of this audience?”

“May I approach?” Quinn asked, holding up the letter.

He nodded and Quinn quickly left your side, her blonde ponytail swaying left then right as she neared the throne. “Is that the Lucado insignia?” You heard the king question, to which Quinn said “Yes, your highness.”

Goren took the letter and held it in his claws, holding it for the queen to read as well. Quinn took three steps back, descending the short stairs before the thrones. There was silence. A long, long moment of silence. You studied the golden and pale yellow tiles underneath your feet, you observed the stained glass, able to see the bright silhouettes of golden flowers that grew outside in the courtyard. Your eyes vacantly moved over the empty benches, where nobles would sit in ceremonies and hearings. Inexpressive guards were posted at the columns near Quinn, sconces with purple flames dancing near them.

“This was sent to who?” The Queen spoke.

You looked up. “It was sent to my office, your highness.”

“Which office is that?”

You had to stop yourself from making a face, it was perfectly normal for her not to know your position. “I’m head of defense, your highness.”

You all paused after you spoke and your lips formed an small 'O' shape.

Of all the offices on the first floor, they had the letter addressed to the head of defense. The office that was once responsible for war strategy and the military. Normally you’d assume that you might be overthinking it, but it seemed like everyone was considering the same thing.

Was this only an invitation? Or was it a warning, too?

Even the guards, who are usually stoic, held pensive expressions.

“Thank you Quinn for bringing this to us,” the king spoke. It was dismissal.

“It’s my duty, your majesty, good day.” Quinn turned to leave and nodded for you to follow. You hesitated; is that it? Just as the heel of your boot left the floor, the king commanded you to stay with a low tone.

You felt Quinn’s gaze on you and figured you’d inform her later, that is if the King didn’t ask for confidentiality. As the doors closed behind her, you took a few steps forward.

"Come closer." The king stood up, clawed hands in his dark beard, his gold trimmed cloak pooled in the seat of his throne. You looked up his hulking form, proud to call such a strong monster your king, his sizable horns were twisted up and curved inward, they only added to his menacing demeanor. In this room, he commanded a sort of obeisance that you never felt when he was simply wandering the castle grounds. You always respected him, but with such a dark expression on his face, you felt thoroughly intimidated.

You walked across the carpet and stopped at its end, just before the stairs leading up to the raised platform that the thrones sat upon.

“It’s no secret that the head of defense is not the same as it was when my father was king,” King Goren began. “We have had no reason in nearly a century to grow our standing army, or update drafting documents.” His eyes trained on you, they were bright, unlike the queen’s; a sparkling blue. “This incident may be isolated, but I doubt it, and I see that you doubt it, too.”

He’s observant.

“There are books in the restricted section of the castle library that will help you deal with this matter…”

Your brows furrowed, had you missed something?

“What exactly… am I dealing with, your highness?” You asked.

“Building our armory.”

“For war?” Your voice nearly cracked. The kingdom of Greria would begin prepping for war? Was the letter truly that serious?

He seemed to notice your building peril. “The _possibility_ of war, ______. The North have the upper hand. If they were to attack now, it would destroy us.”

“May I ask something, your highness?”

“Speak freely.”

“How are you so sure that we are in harm’s way?”

You understood that the North had a more bloody reputation than the South. You understood that their laws were harsher. You understood that this situation was uncomfortably unorthodox, but you hadn't expected to kick start the military because of it. Is this not something that can be talked out?

He shared a look with the queen. “This new royal family, the king they plan to instill… They’re cruel mages.” It was a vague answer. “Do look for those books, ______. Come to me if you have questions, this will be new for us both. That will be all.” He turned away from you and moved back to his throne.

Your mouth opened and closed. That will be all?! The safety of the kingdom on your shoulders and that will be all!? You swallowed and stepped back. “Shall I keep quiet about this?” You asked out of courtesy.

“Utterly silent, my dear,” the queen replied.

Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh...  
> Well, at least the job has gotten a bit more interesting!  
> What are y'all thinking about this letter? Is the king being paranoid? HmmmmMMmm...
> 
> No Gaster this chapter, but he'll be back.


	9. Afternoon Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've got a lot on your mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the timeline a bit! I realized that I did a few timeskips that didn't line up with where I put the Spring festival.
> 
> Just know that it hasn't begun yet, but it's close, I went back and edited to support that :-).
> 
> Enjoy!

“A-choo!”

“Bless you,” Gaster said, clearly amused.

You sniffed and stared at the ground with watery eyes. Hay fever; it’s been getting pretty bad and you knew that staying up late reading about Greria's military history for the past few nights wasn’t helping. You’d been taking heavy leather bound books, from the library, home for discretion, so your bedroom was no longer a safe space from work, now it was the center of covert operations. Well, covert studying.

Reading those books had almost felt surreal. All the talk of ranks, military camps, formations, funding for separate branches… it all seemed so foreign, like a different world. Like fiction. And you were technically the head of it. It all wasn't completely new, of course. You weren’t a historian, but you knew your kingdom’s past. The warring between the Northern and Southern kingdoms, the emergence of mages and how that added an entirely new  branch of warfare, the shaky armistice that faded into an exhausted peace treaty. There were many plays about it, though you couldn't be sure how accurate those were. Still, it wasn't the cause of Greria's entry to the war that you needed to learn, it was the means of _how_ Greria participated in the war.

Your eyelids felt heavy and you blinked before opening them wider. Right now you needed to focus on the workday ahead of you.

You noticed Gaster had stopped walking and you turned to look back at him. He was staring at you like you were something on a glass slide and you didn’t appreciate it. “Everything alright?” You asked.

Gaster’s sockets narrowed and he held his chin, the lights in his eyes moving only slightly over your face. “Dark circles,” he mumbled. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

You’d think the guy had known you for years. He just says what he likes.

You did a poor job of convincing yourself that it bothered you.

You sighed and fished for a way to dance around the truth, he’d probably notice the hesitation, but it’s the best you could do. You began to walk again and Gaster did as well, moving really to keep his gaze on you. “Work,” you answered, “there are some… things I haven’t been able to finish at the office…” He nodded beside you and you felt very glad he wasn’t prying.

The two of you continued to walk in comfortable silence. It was already warm, a sign of Spring's imminency. Soon enough you’d be carrying your coat on your arm and wearing your blouse alone. Usually around this time of year, you'd be looking forward to all the gatherings and events of the impending festival, but this year you're thoroughly occupied.

Your plate for today was pretty full, as it had been since your meeting with the king, which had only been three days ago. On top of your usual work, you had this new side of defense to consider as well. The process of getting in touch with the ‘armory,’ wasn’t quite as simple as what you’d read. Blacksmiths were scattered all over the capital, and while you’d love to give Grillby and his mentor endless business, two beings simply weren’t enough, you needed more blacksmiths and you would very much like them to be in the same area. Instead you would have to come up with a clever lie or hope for their discretion before sending someone to speak with all of them… That someone would have to be sworn to secrecy as well. Or maybe you should just do it yourself.

You sighed and closed your eyes, trusting your feet not to trip on a risen cobblestone. “Gaster, I’m entirely too stressed.”

“I can tell,” he said.

“Talk to me about your job, maybe it’ll make me feel better,” you said, opening your eyes. You saw Gaster sporting a small smile, a crescent-shaped split in his jaw.

“I suppose you wouldn’t be so inclined to hear about it if it didn’t benefit you?”

“I am transparent.”

He laughed, a rare sound, though not around you. “I’ll tell you at lunch tomorrow, too much to say. Alchemy is ever expanding.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

You tilted your head and laughed as well. “And here I was thinking that I was out of it. We’re off tomorrow, Gaster.”

“Precisely.”

He seemed to enjoy whatever expression your face made on its own accord. You forced your lips flat but as you spoke they curved once more. “Very well.”

You heard Myra bark out your name and waved in response; Leon was there as well, he nodded to Gaster. The gates opened as the two of you neared it. You discreetly peeked over at Gaster with your head tilted down. “So, where shall we meet?”

“I was considering the park where I first met you, it has a certain piquancy, don’t you think?”

You thought about the bench you oftentimes sat at alone, until him. “I do.”

“It’s perfect then.” He turned and greeted Leon and you did the same with Myra. After passing through the gate, Gaster explained that he would be preparing lunch for you two tomorrow.

“You cook?” You asked.

“How else would I eat anything?” He questioned.

You laughed at that, “Maybe by leeching off your restaurant owning friends? Something crazy like that.”

“Sounds a bit specific, ______.”

You giggled and said nothing as you walked up the castle steps together. At least this...outing… with Gaster tomorrow was something you had to look forward to in the up and coming mayhem.

Once you finished your homework, then you would really have to implement it. Swords… cannons? You read that cannons were big in the past war. Oh gods, did you need to build a navy? Greria is landlocked, but _still_... did the southern kingdoms along the coast have a navy? You hoped you would be getting an assistant sometime soon. Of course, it did bring you some comfort to know that the king would make himself available to you, but you couldn't rely on that alone.

You've been tasked with something that the king is as ignorant about as you. You vacantly listened to you heels clicking against marble floors. Maybe you could find someone who was from the Warring Era? Is there anyone? Monsters do live much longer than humans… mages do as well, but not by too long a shot.

“______?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been standing outside the lab for a few minutes now,” Gaster said from the doorway.

You blinked and looked around, noting the familiar columns and high ceiling. “Oh! Goodness, I’m just gonna… stop doing that then.” You walked briskly away, Gaster’s deep laugh chasing after you.

 

* * *

 

 Stress. You felt stress. Also you were a bit hungry. The menial tasks of your job felt like busywork all of the sudden (it wasn't sudden at all). You needed to protect the kingdom! ...One alpaca-related disagreement at a time. Why can people never keep their alpacas on their own land? You diligently began to write to the complaint holder when there was a knock on your open door.

You looked up and saw Quinn, her hair was in its trademark high ponytail. She eyed your desk for a moment and then sighed, “You still can’t tell me, can you?”

You slowly shook your head, “Not yet. I’m sure when-” Well, if there’s ever a draft the whole kingdom will know. Not that you can even mention the possibility of a draft. “Not yet,” you repeat.

Quinn nodded understandingly, “You’ve been working hard, I see.”

You wryly smiled and glanced back to the pile of complaints you have yet to diminish.

“Are you too exhausted to challenge the new alchemist?” She asked, as if she were simply bringing up the weather.

You nearly snapped your neck as quickly as you turned to look at her. “I-” You cleared your throat and adjusted your thoughts into something more professional than they emerged as. “How could I pass up an opportunity like that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it... is it a date?
> 
> Oh but now you gotta fight! (Is that a date too????)
> 
> Also, reviews are like a writer's fuel, so please lemme know what you're thinking! Anything is nice!


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